


A Modern Concussion (The Room is on Fire)

by CuriosityKilledTheCat07



Category: I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), The Brobecks
Genre: But mostly fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, I wonder what could happen..., M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Ryan's sick, Sickfic, and they have a show, but doesn't tell Dallon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 16:43:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18814912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityKilledTheCat07/pseuds/CuriosityKilledTheCat07
Summary: "It could have been twenty seconds later, or it could have been twenty minutes, Ryan didn’t know, but the last thing he heard was the clatter of drumsticks and footsteps rushing to his side."✦Ryan's sick but doesn't tell anyone.Oh, and they have a show to play.





	A Modern Concussion (The Room is on Fire)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> So I wrote this over about a month at ridiculous times at night, with about 5 lines written each time.  
> But nevertheless, we are all incredibly deprived of Weekman content, and I want to see all the tropes that you'll find so easily with other ships, so please enjoy!!
> 
> **[Russian Translation](http://ficbook.net/readfic/8586193/21915698)**  or copy-paste the link:  ficbook.net/readfic/8586193/21915698
> 
> :D

“Ryan? Ryan?”

“I’m here Dal.”

Ryan had woken up that day feeling off: a pain in his neck, a pounding in his head and his face burning up at about a thousand degrees. He hadn’t wanted to jump to conclusions, after all they had a show to play that night, but the tell-tale signs were all yelling at him that a fever was inevitable.

“Ry, why are you back in bed? It’s eleven,” Dallon approached him with a small smile. They often liked to lie in on their off-days, legs intertwined and hearts beating in sync as they made the most of the little time they had just to themselves. But today just wasn’t one of those days – they had a show to play and fans to meet and after that they were going out to dinner with some close friends. The day was far from over. Just the thought of it made Ryan feel as if a giant was stomping down on him.

“I was just resting,” he lied through his teeth. Dallon was overprotective at the best of times, one of the many things Ryan loved about him, but if he even got a slight idea that Ryan felt even a little off he’d cancel everything for the day. He wasn’t gonna lie, he’d love that, but he couldn’t do that to the band, the bamd, and let down all their loving fans.

Dallon’s smirk shaped into a disapproving look at the seemingly unsatisfactory response. Over a decade of knowing each other meant that he could read Ryan like a book, and the lie was clear on his face. Yet he didn’t push – he’d always been a firm believer that they’d share with one another when they wanted to, another quality that Ryan loved about him.

 “Don’t forget we’re leaving at one,” Dallon called out, leaving a quick kiss on Ryan’s cheek before leaving the room. Ryan appreciated the sentiment, he really did, but in the moment the only things he could think of were the hammer pounding down on his head and the hope that Dallon hadn’t felt his clammy cheeks.

✦

“You’re on in 20,” a voice rang out through the wings.

They had spent the better part of their time backstage lounging about – Ryan’s head rested in Dallon’s lap, who grasped his phone with one hand and had the other carding through Ryan’s hair, while Ryan simply put all of his effort into trying to keep his spirits up.

But of course, being in such close proximity only increased Dallon’s suspicions.

“You’re super warm, Ry,” he sighed, resting his cool fingers upon Ryan’s scalding forehead.

The sudden cool touch was comforting, like rain in the middle of a desert, and Ryan basked in the temporary relief for a few moments.

“I’m good, Dal. Just having a weird sorta day.”

His deflections could only last so long, with his fever getting worse and worse by the minute. Dallon just sighed at the response, resorting to clutching Ryan that little bit closer.

“5 minutes.”

“Their pre-show rituals sped by, with Ryan’s brain working on autopilot as he tried to clear the fog plaguing his mind. _Water, soap, shave, rinse. Tap, tap, tap. Arm in, arm out._

“1 minute.”

“I love you,” Dallon said, leaving a chaste kiss on Ryan’s lips before making his way to stage side.

“Love you too.”

The screaming in the room outside escalated to a deafening roar once Dallon entered the stage, thousands of pairs of eyes enamoured by his presence.

Ryan stood backstage for a few moments, savouring the seconds until he’d be up there too. He closed his eyes, letting the atmosphere wash over him – the one that usually filled him up and made him float. _Breathe in. Breathe out_. But the spark was missing.

As Dallon began singing his first few lines, Ryan made his way on stage, a thundering applause coming almost immediately after. On any other day, he would have loved the reaction, basking in the affection that was being poured out to him. Yet today, it did nothing but make his head pound harder.

He took a seat behind his drums, getting ready to time himself in.

_1...2…1, 2, 3, 4._

One benefit of Ryan’s dedication to his drums was that he could play them even if he were half-dead, so there he was completely zoned out, but hitting everything at the right time. Dallon kept shooting concerned looks his way, but Ryan would just put on a brave face and avoid his eye.

  _Not much longer now, you can keep going Ryan._

He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, his brain having been checked out since the start, but sometime between the second or third song, his heart began wanting to thump right out of his chest, the incessant thuds reverberating around his head, and his breathing didn’t seem to want to keep up. Everything in Ryan’s sight turned to hazy blurs. Whether it was from sweat or tears, he didn’t know. But the worst was his head. It felt as if a million wasps were stinging him, not ever done releasing their wrath. Yet he still kept on drumming, arms moving in time without any thought behind them. It could have been twenty seconds later, or it could have been twenty minutes, Ryan didn’t know, but the last thing he heard was the clatter of drumsticks and footsteps rushing to his side.

✦

“You’re all looking beautiful tonight,” Dallon began, gesturing around the room at the elated crowd.

 “Especially you over there,” he pointed straight at Ryan, who was positioned behind his drums with a dazed look on his face. His actions would usually elicit a better reaction than that, a wide grin being expected and sometimes even a sly wink, yet today Ryan returned a barely visible smile, if it could even be called that.

Dallon walked around Ryan’s kit a few times, feigning amusement as he tried to make sure Ryan was alright. Yet Ryan just stared at his drum kit, hitting away.

“Ry, you okay?” He whispered in Ryan’s ear between songs. He received a firm nod in return – nothing more and nothing less.

Dallon let out a sigh. The atmosphere was amazing, thousands of people cheering them on as if their lives depended on it. Yet Dallon could just sense that something was up with Ryan, dampening the entire mood.

He returned to his microphone, ready to begin the next song, a few words had even made their way out of his mouth, when a distinctive clatter resounding around the room. The room was loud, perhaps even deafening, but Dallon knew that sound even if no one else in the room could hear it.

_Drumsticks_.

Dallon’s heart was in his throat as he turned around at a lightning pace, already anticipating for the worst. But nothing could have ever prepared him for the sight ahead. Ryan was midfall, drumsticks already on the floor and his body about to meet them there too. But the worst thing of all was the blank expression on his face – no look of fear, absolutely nothing, as his eyes snapped shut in the final few seconds before he made contact with the cold wood panelling.

“Ry!” He yelled out, a split-second too late.

_Thud_.

Ryan hit the floor, thousands of pairs of eyes following his movements. Yet they all stood there frozen, too shocked to act.

Dallon snatched off his bass strap and bolted towards Ryan, his haphazard steps going _clunk clunk_ against the floor with each stride. In a few seconds he was by Ryan’s side, carefully lifting his head up into his arms while members of the crew came swarming out.

“Ry, you’ll be okay. I love you,” Dallon whispered with a pained expression on his face, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Ryan was rushed off-stage by paramedics while a member of the crew said some words out to the crowd. But none of it reached Dallon’s ears as he held onto Ryan’s hand as if his life depended on it. He thought back and remembered how checked out Ryan had seemed throughout the day. Now he was only wishing he had paid more attention to it.

✦

“Dal?”

That was the first thing Ryan croaked out after coming to, his vision still blurry, but his head feeling slightly better than it had before. He could vaguely remember feeling worse than death, before there was a blank in his memory and he could only recall a familiar calloused hand wrapped tightly around his and someone trying to force a foul tasting concoction down his throat, before everything dipped into darkness again. He attempted to peer around, being met with nothing but inky black. He shifted slightly, adjusting his body as his head cleared up, recognising the cosiness of their own bed and making out a familiar warmth beside him.

Dallon whipped around at lightning pace at the sound of Ryan’s hoarse voice, any lingering daze of sleepiness wiped out.

“Ryan!” he whispered, engulfing the younger man in a cuddle as they were both lying down. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? You literally just fell over on stage! I was worried Ry!” Frustration creeped into Dallon’s voice as he got over the initial joy of Ryan’s recent consciousness.

Still stuck in somewhat of a haze, Ryan replied with a simple,” But what about the show?”

Dallon sighed, but couldn’t help the smile that inched onto his face.

“We stopped the show, obviously. But you don’t have to worry about that. Everyone was more concerned about you over the concert anyway.”

Ryan replied with a noncommittal grunt, already lapsing back into sleep.

“C’mere,” he said, making grabby hands at Dallon.

“You dork,” Dallon replied back, pulling himself closer to Ryan while slowly carding his fingers through his hair, before both their breathing evened out to a peaceful pace.

**Author's Note:**

> I love how the writing gets sloppier and sloppier.  
> Thank you so much for reading!!!  
> Xx


End file.
